Letters From An Unknown Vanya
by char-tomio
Summary: Human AU. The story of a young girl receiving letters from someone she only knows as 'Vanya', gets glimpses of their intertwined histories together. Companion fic to 'Intersections' but can be read on their own.


**Disclaimer: Nyet. Don't own Hetalia. Based on the old old movie 'Letters from an Unknown Woman'.**

**Companion fic to Intersections, but can be read fine by itself. Set maybe somewhere near World War II.**

**Some necessary explanations; Liechtenstein knew Russia as 'Vanya' and Russia knew her as 'Lili Zwingli'.**

**First Russian National Army/Russian Liberation Army/Vlasov Army.. it's all the same thing.**

**Okay, maybe some guys don't know this but the Russian naming pattern is like this; Given name + patronymic + family name. A patronymic consists the name of the father, plus -ovich (for males) or -ovna (for females) example, if Sergey Brin's father's name is Mikhail, then his patronymic would be Mikhailovich (Sergey Mikhailovich Brin). Got it? Good. Let us now proceed.**

**LETTERS FROM AN UNKNOWN VANYA**

* * *

She does not remember when exactly did she start receiving letters. Maybe when she was six or seven.. It didn't matter. The important thing was that _it was here._

Lilli smiled to herself. She had the misfortune of being born sometime after the first world war, hence not being able to have much friends during her primary years of existence. She had expressed a genuine interest in people but was not really allowed to go outside much, per her brother. She lost her parents during the war and was adopted by a similarly orphaned Vash Zwingli when he found her in the streets, near dying of hunger. Now, Vash was a protective one, something he cannot avoid from his past traumas. Lilli knew that he didn't want to be bereaved ever again. She didn't want to, either.

For her fifth birthday, Vash presented her with an old, dusty picture book. She didn't care less where he got it, but that's where it all started.

It was a beautiful book, filled with black-and-white pictures of trees and flowers she couldn't quite make out from the lack of color. There were descriptions to read, but that was far from the topic. The whole mystery about the story, this particular story, was that there was an old, handwritten letter sandwiched in between the pages. She had always been intrigued by this yellowed piece of paper. Learning how to read didn't make it any better- it was inscribed in another alphabet, Russian Cyrillic, she learned later on. At first, Vash was against her want to learn the said language- the Germans were at war with Russia, but she insisted. Lilli rarely asked for anything, and perhaps learning something new wasn't all that bad. He should be proud of her taking the initiative.

But as they say, a little learning is a dangerous thing.

After a year and half of self-study, she was finally able to translate everything.

* * *

_Hello my friend,_

_I honestly want to know how are you doing? Are you safe? If you receive this, please reply as fast as possible. It would make me happy to no end if you did write back._

_Vanya_

* * *

She did not know what force led her receive that letter.

And she did not know what force led her to reply. Curiosity, probably. She had replied simply, sending friendly greetings from the neutral country of Liechtenstein (she had to add that, otherwise, a Russian man (or woman, whatever the name 'Vanya' suggested) would probably not take kindly to someone from the 'other side'.) and asked if he knew her. It was as innocent as most letters written by children go, bursting with eagerness of knowing the other. Also, she added that if she wanted to be her friend and if he, or she, could write back.

Lilli knew enough about Vash, so she decided to mail the letter in secret. Unfortunately, she did not know how much the postage actually costed and had to shorten the whole thing to cost less. However, it did not change the fact that she was wrung dry of her candy budget.

Still, she went home with a large smile on her face.

The smile became larger, when she received a reply a half year later. It was written very messy, but she didn't mind. Because she was only 6 back then.

* * *

_Privet, moy comrade,_

_I thank you very much for replying! Da, konecheno, I would be overjoyed if I did get to be your friend. Your name is Lili Zwingli, da, like the flower? It is a very beautiful name. You can call me Vanya. Vanya Ivanovich Braginski._

_Where is Liechtenstein, exactly? Can you tell me more about it in the next letter? I'm sure it's a beautiful place. I live in a small town in Russia, far away from the capital. It's very cold, but it's my home. I live with my grandfather and my two sisters! My older sister, Katyusha, is very kind but not very pretty. Natalya, my younger sister, is very pretty, but not so kind. How about you? Do you have siblings? Please tell me a lot about you. Do not be shy because we are friends, da?_

_From Vanya_

* * *

Lilli, as happy as can be, wrote a letter, describing the Germanic countryside she grew up in, her brother, and herself. She saved up and had enough to afford mailing a longer letter and in just four months, she received a reply.

Their exchanges became frequent- a letter every four, or if lucky, three months. They got along extremely well and became very good friends. They didn't have any photographs or even a mere idea of how the other looked like, in Lilli's case, something she had just realized a few years later. But deep inside, she knew he was a kind man and could be somewhat handsome, too.

There was much to be talked about. Lilli learned that Vanya was male and maybe six years older than her. Both had debates on whose siblings were weirder, whose cooking was better and so on. They would share funny stories and folk legends from their respective countries. Reading their letters would never fail to put large smiles on their faces every time they received the other's. They've slipped each other's lives quite well and each had a big place in the other's heart.

Until the Second World War.

Letters from Russia were very heavily examined before they could come in. Lilli was depressed enough when Vash was taken in to help guard the Swiss border. Switzerland and Liechtenstein were relatively safer, being neutral countries, but they still had to keep their guards up. And though there was no gunshots, no fires, no bombs to disrupt the calm, Lilli did not feel at ease. Being separated from her brother was one thing, but losing touch with her only friend Vanya was another. She did not hear from him any more. All day, she would stay at home, reread her friend's letters and write replies that could never be sent. The silent joy she would radiate was buried deep beneath the worries and anxiety.

That smile only returned in the after the Second World War.

Lilli was 15 when Liechtenstein gave asylum to a handful of soldiers from the First National Army. It was the time where Lilli had decided to volunteer in the Liechtenstein Red Cross. Partly to earn, to keep contact with her brother still stuck in the Swiss border, and to finally be able to communicate with different people.

She had enjoyed comforting and talking to the few wounded soldiers who knew how to speak German. Her Russian had greatly faded since the start of the war.

Then one day, the men came home with a near-dead Russian soldier. He was an enemy soldier from the Red Army, rumored to be one of the best. They were about to leave him in the battlefield to die, but out of pity, a rare thing in battle, they decided to bring him back. They decided to show mercy and save him, in the same way the country of Liechtenstein had showed them mercy and saved their lives.

Lilli was one of the few tasked to care for him. A young soldier, with silver-beige hair wearing a bloodstained scarf. She washed and mended his heavily stained overcoat and scarf, helped bandage him and stood guard just in case. He was an enemy soldier, after all. There was no assurance that the soldiers would still continue their act of goodwill while he was at his weakest.

After a few days, he woke up. As expected, he had lost some memories. There was a few trouble, but he managed to prove harmless. Even more harmless and friendlier than the other soldiers. He managed to fit in well with everyone, even those who were deemed his enemies in the face of war.

Most of all, Lilli was the one closest to this particular soldier, Ivan Braginski.

She was attracted by his natural charm, his smile, his little acts of kindness, his ability to stay happy in the midst of destruction.

She was in love.

So in love she forgot Vanya completely.

Her happiness was short-lived but her love was not. When the USSR demanded the soldiers back, when Liechtenstein allowed those who wanted to leave on their own free will to go, he was one of them. He missed his grandfather and sisters. As much as she wanted to ask, to plead him to stay, she couldn't. Her love was unrequited. And so, she begrudgingly pretended to be happy for him.

Ivan Braginski, with 200 more soldiers, alighted a train in Vienna to Moscow.

But before that, Lilli uncovered a peculiar letter written in shaky German and a little Cyrillic. It was from Ivan Braginski.

It had his everlasting gratitude to the country of Liechtenstein and the nurses. It had his want to bring her along with him to Russia. It had his address and a few rubles, enough for a train train ticket to Moscow.

Best, it had some proof that her love might not be unrequited after all.

After five years, the effects of war were slightly nulled and numbed by time. Nations and people recovered. But Russia was now hidden by an iron curtain. It seemed that the struggle was not over.

She had never spent the few rubles from Ivan Braginski. She had never heard of him, or anyone from the Russian Liberation Army yet. By that time, she had spent her time studying medicine. After a few stints of apprenticing under a few local doctors, she was given a chance to practice in Munich. And in the midst of packing up, she uncovered a few letters, dating back to World War 1.

* * *

_Dear Vanya,_

_I am now married to a good man with a beautiful daughter. Thank you for teaching me a lot, and for not choosing to further pursue me. I know you are happy with your children, my friend. May the good Lord smile upon both of our families._

_Liliana_

* * *

It was written by her mother. Soon, a flood of memories came rushing to her, all giving her a hazy theory on how that first letter from Vanya ended up in her birthday gift. Soon enough, she confronted her brother and Vash confessed that the black-and-white picture book was one of the lucky things that had survived from her parents' abandoned house, thereby confirming her suspicions.

But if Vanya was her mother's friend, could he still be the same 'Vanya' she exchanged letters with? She hurried up and took out the oldest letter and compared it with the others.

The handwriting was obviously different.

Someone had been pretending to be Vanya.

And that someone used to be six years older than her.

Lilli didn't really feel the urge to dig deep into history. So instead, she sent 'Vanya' her first letter in years. Written was her experiences during the war, what had happened during the past years, her discoveries and how she befriended a wonderful Russian soldier.

And then again, more suspicions arose when she wrote down the last parts.

Ivan Braginski and Vanya Ivanovich Braginski.

A coincidence maybe?

She postponed her trip to Germany and awaited for a reply. Nine months passed and it seemed that Vanya possibly had not survived the war.

And to Germany, she went.

* * *

After completing three more years of training, she returned to her native Liechtenstein. Her brother welcomed her with joy, even to the point of celebrating. They had a mini-feast, talked about her experiences in Germany and taking small trips to memory lane. Vash had missed her very much.

For the first time in three years, she finally came to her room.

But what shocked her was the letter on her desk.

It seemed like a fresh new letter. The envelope was neat and tidy. Probably came from her brother.

But she was wrong.

It was from Vanya.

She immediately tore it open and revealed the longest letter she had ever seen.

* * *

_Dear Lilli Eva Vogel-Zwingli,_

_It's me again._

_I was very much intrigued with your numerous war stories. I'm sorry for not being able to mail a reply during those years. I was serving in the military and all your mails were probably redirected to my sisters and grandfather._

_And now, it's my turn to tell you my stories._

_My father's name is Ivan, or 'Vanya'. I was named after him. He served in World War 1 and by coincidence, met a wonderful Germanic woman named Liliana on a train. Liliana was very small and frail, and so, when he saw her once again, in trouble with a few Russian soldiers, he did not hesitate to help her out. They became good friends and my father wanted to marry him. But their families were against their union. And so, with all respect, he let her go when she asked to leave. Ivan got married to my mother, had children and the same for Liliana. But they remained good friends, until they both died separately during the war. My mother died from depression and we were taken care of by my grandfather, who lived in my father's native hometown._

_I was bullied a lot by the town children. I didn't have friends save for my sisters. The bullying became more and more frequent until I decided to end it. And one day, going home with a broken arm and a fixed suicide plan, Dedushka told me that I had a letter- a friendly letter. That letter saved my life. I was so excited that I took two months to wait for my right arm to heal and to decide what I really want to write. I read that letter over and over again, forgetting the mean kids altogether and living every day with a newfound hope that maybe someone does want to become friends with me. And right, I became friends with a girl from a place I didn't even knew existed. She was nice, understanding and was interested in everything I had to say. A friend. We kept on exchanging letters until the war._

_I was forced to join the Red Army when I hit 19. I spent years with older, more experienced soldiers who showed me the ropes. Everyone said that I had natural talent, but one time, something went wrong. While stationed in Austria somewhere, I was about to die. Then, a miracle happened. Some ROA soldiers actually helped me and the next thing I knew, I was in somewhere safe. The nurses took good care of me, especially one. She was an angel. But she was also very young, thirteen or so, if I remember right.. Anyway, I was very much smitten with her but I know our love cannot be. So when the USSR wanted to extradite us, I came back, but left a letter and some money enough for a train ticket to Moscow. I told her to come visit when the war was over, so that I can maybe marry her someday._

_Going back to Moscow, I managed to escape the death sentence, because I was not directly involved with the ROA. I wanted to save some of them but although they were very nice men, they had crimes against the nation._

_I continued service to put food on the table, but it was harder than I thought. During my six years of service, there was not a single time when I did not see the snow speckled with red. Scary, but all bad things come to an end. I came home and found another letter. A letter with many interesting stories._

_So, here, I know you are a very intelligent woman so you must understand this whole letter, da? You have captured my interest, as well as my heart, my dear. I wish you well._

_If you do want to agree, meet me on the 27th of November in the very same place where we first met._

_-Ivan Ivanovich Braginski_

* * *

She blinked a few times before coming to terms with everything. The Liechtensteinerin weakly set the letter on the desk before doing the only thing she could do.

Lilli panicked. She dug out her letters from Vanya frantically and compared it with the letter from the camp and the one now.

The handwriting was all the same.

It was the 27th of November and nearly midnight. Without thinking, she ran off past her disgruntled brother and escaped, not even bothering to take a coat or a lamp with her.

The streets were empty and there was hardly any source of light. It would be hard navigating Schaan from here-

She immediately fell down as she bumped into something large. Lilli bit back a shriek when something else shattered with a sharp crash. Looking down, there were broken shards of glass, a bottle of alcohol.. But also dainty white flowers. Why were there flowers?

A gloved hand was extended to her, which she hesitantly took. She dusted herself off and apologized before passing him and scrambling away.

"Lilli, where are you going?"

Lilli stopped. Slowly, she turned to the large figure. The streets were dark, but his silver hair and vibrant amethyst eyes were luminescent. His childish smiled graced his round face.

She was speechless. Which was furthered when the man picked up and dusted off the chamomiles he brought. Slowly, he approached her, removing his large overcoat and draping it around her.

"Too shocked to speak, da?" he gently smiled, placing the flowerettes in between her golden braids.

The woman shook her head. "Nein..It's..it's just that.." She looked up to him. He wore a tan scarf, less softer than the one a few years before. He was significantly taller, his features matured. But his eyes still had that warm, beautiful glow.

"You..You're Vanya, ja?"

"Da, konecheno. Who else?"

"The letters.."

"M-hm."

"And..and the soldier-"

"Da."

"I-I couldn't.." she stuttered, blushing very heavily as his fingers gently caressed her face. She looked up one last time to him. "I can't really believe all of it."

"You don't need to." was the last things he said before leaning down and planting a soft kiss on her lips.

* * *

**a/n: Okaay, I'm sorry if the ending was a bit to what do you call it..cliche.**

**If you search the real novella 'Letter from an Unknown Woman', it ends very different.**

**Hope you enjoyed it.**


End file.
